The Sins of Angels
by Basilisk9466
Summary: Sister Tzarine and her warband of renegade Sisters have survived the gruelling war of Senaav III and won their freedom. Now they face a new challenge - to rescue their former kin from the hunter in the dark... Part 2 of the Daughters of Apostasy.
1. Chapter 1

Sister Callisine stared into the darkness, and felt the terror gnawing at her bones.

She was the only one left. Her visor was blank, her vox silent. And she had counted the agonised, dying screams of her squadmates.

The abandoned mine seemed endless. Massive chasms, intricate scaffolding, winding tunnels and old equipment; it was a warren of cover and hiding places, filled with a deep gloom that even her helmet's autosenses struggled to penetrate. It was also seemingly impossible to escape. In her earlier flight, she had completely lost her bearings, and although the systems of her power armour could have guided her in retracing her steps, that was the last thing she wanted to do.

The hunter was still there.

Something moved behind her, and she spun, finger instinctively compressing the trigger of her flamer. Promethium belched into the darkness, dispelling the shadows, and for a moment she caught a glimpse of massive, taloned hands.

She screamed incoherent prayers to the Emperor for salvation, spraying flame towards the figure, but it was already gone. Then the fear took her entirely, and she turned to flee, her heart pounding in her ears.

The Battle Sister made it three steps before something powerful grabbed her shoulder, hurling her against the wall. She lost her grip on the flamer as she crumpled, and she began crawling on all fours in blind, animal panic. The hunter grasped her backpack reactor, pulled her to her feet and pinned her against the wall.

The figure towered over her, utterly silent as she quivered. "Emperor save me," Callisine whimpered.

"Save you?" The hunter's voice was harsh, grating, and she flinched at the hatred in it. "The Emperor does not save. He only destroys. Why should he save you? What makes you so special?"

"Mercy! I'm begging you –"

"I have none for your kind." The talons crackled with disruptive energies, and with casual strength they ripped into her armour, ripping chunks away to reveal the skintight bodysuit below. "I have only malice."

Blood sprayed, and her agonised wails echoed through the depths as he flayed her alive.

* * *

Tzarine jerked awake with a cry.

The sheets were a tangled, sweat-soaked mess. She clawed free of them, stumbling over to the basin in the corner of her quarters, staring into the mirror. The face she saw there was pale and haunted, and she splashed cold water over herself, trying to purge the nightmare from her mind.

She knew the girl. Callisine had been a fresh recruit brought to the Mission a few weeks before her own disgrace and demotion. She had been a sweet girl, polite and earnest, and Tzarine had felt that she might have a bright future.

So why had she suddenly dreamed about her being tortured to death by a nameless horror? The warrior in her struggled to remember, to try and identify the monster, but it had never appeared clearly. She just knew that it had been big, stealthy and filled with absolute hatred for Callisine – and maybe for the Sororitas in general, by the way it had spoken.

She glanced accusingly at the wall, and far beyond, the twisting skeins of the warp that surrounded the _Soul Venom._ The cruiser had been travelling through the Immaterium for a week now, and although she had scoured the warship to remove all trace of the Word Bearers from it, she couldn't help wondering if the vessel's former masters had not left some legacy that might attract the gods of Chaos to give her nightmares. It was quite possible some daemon or other held a grudge after her betrayal and killing of the Apostle Korgar.

Of course, there could be a closer explanation.

She ran a palm over the scanner set in the wall, and metal plates obediently unfolded to reveal the storage chamber beyond. In pride of place were her midnight blue power armour, and her bolt pistol and chainsword. All of them gleamed, repaired and cleaned after the gruelling fighting on Senaav. Apart from a fond glance, though, she ignored them, instead focusing on the two artefacts at the far end of the small room.

The Azure Gate appeared lifeless, little more than a metal frame. Although the pre-Eldar artefact was a mystery to her, it made sense that it would not function while the _Venom_ was travelling through the warp; after all, the Gate itself was a contained warp rift. It seemed unlikely that it was to blame for her dreams, but she still glowered at it, part of her wishing that it had been left on Senaav to burn with the rest of the planet. As far as she was concerned, it was dangerous – and not just because it was a stabilised rift into the warp, safeguards or not.

She remembered the first time she had gone through, at Korgar's insistence. The biting cold had penetrated her to the core, but her most vivid memory was of the trials she had faced. The four gods of Chaos, or their chosen servants, had tested her, tempted her with their power. She had resisted, but only by a thread. Having the Gate in her own chambers was undoubtedly a good way of preventing anyone unwanted from passing through… but she was also aware of the tiny corner of her brain that wanted to go back through, to taste what they had shown her once again.

She had held out, although by any standard of the Ecclesiarchy she had fallen; she had refused to serve Chaos, and had demanded that it serve her as a tool.

Her eyes slid off the Gate and to the other artefact as she remembered the brutal fight she had endured to 'earn' that. The gore-red gemstone glinted, and she knew that if she touched it, it would feel warm. It was the heart of a daemon – though whether literally a heart, or just a symbolic gesture, she was unsure. All she knew was that its owner walked the halls of this ship.

Llthaanhir was, in her own words, a favoured champion of Slaanesh. It had never been stated outright, and Tzarine's knowledge of daemonic lore was somewhat lacking, but the Sororitas suspected that she was in fact a daemon princess, with all the quirks and cunning of mortality as well as the capricious power and malicious nature of a true daemon. According to her, the heart bound her to Tzarine's will, and certainly, she had obeyed Tzarine so far. Without the daemon's assistance, her little band would never have had the power to thwart and destroy the Word Bearers.

That did not mean she had to like it. Her faith in the Emperor was dead, and her soul seethed with hatred for the mindless bureaucracy and cruelty of the Imperium, and the Ecclesiarchy in general. They had betrayed her, and all her Sisters, and her loyalty to those monolithic bodies was all spent. Chaos, however, was not the answer. Whatever her deepest, darkest cravings said, the path of Chaos led nowhere good, and she knew that just using it in the form of the daemon princess was dangerous. Llthaanhir had helped them once, but she had had nowhere else to turn, and she had sworn never to call on the creature unless she had to.

The fact that she had not refused Llthaanhir's offer to remain with her when the business on Senaav was complete was proof that she was walking a thin line. She justified it with remarks about the daemon's strength, the information it could provide – but deep down, she knew that she had allowed it because it was a benefit to her. Not her Sisters, just her. She'd hoped that leaving Senaav and the growing warp rift there would loosen Llthaanhir's grip on reality, but it had been a vain hope; somehow the daemon remained healthy and solidly physical, and she had a nasty feeling it was to do with that same gemstone that she was now looking at. A bond could go both ways.

Now, as if her presence did not do enough to cause friction between herself and those under her command, that bond could be ruining her sleep.

She shook herself, and sealed the chamber with another wave of her palm, scowling. Or maybe it was just her warp sickness playing up again.

She glanced at the chronometer, and sighed. Three hours until she was due to be up. Reason told her to go to sleep, but she knew that the screaming, skinless form of Callisine would be imprinted on the inside of her eyelids.

The door buzzed angrily, and she jumped, snatching for the knife she kept under her pillow. The _Soul Venom_'s officers and crew had acceded to her command, but this was still a pirate ship that, until recently, had been independent of any outside control. Certainly they seemed to think she was a vast improvement of Korgar and his Word Bearers, but she didn't trust them an inch. "What?" she barked.

"It's me," came a familiar voice. Tzarine relaxed, and hauled the heavy door partway open, closing it behind her very welcome guest. Few entered the area of the quarters assigned to the renegade Sororitas, but she didn't feel like showing the crew what she looked like in a shift.

Morgana glanced around the room, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. Judging by her robe, she had been on duty – there had been talk among some of the Sisters about abandoning the traditional out-of-armour clothing of the Sororitas, but old habits died hard. Her lieutenant turned to look at her, concerned. "You look terrible. Bad dream?"

Tzarine slipped the knife back into its hiding place, and nodded. "What's up?" she asked, forestalling any questions.

Morgana peered at her for a moment, then shook her head, expression becoming grave. "The astropaths intercepted a distress signal." Tzarine suddenly realised that the other woman was tense and shaking. "Shondar is under attack."

Shondar. Tzarine stared. The Shondar system had been a local hub, particularly important to the Ecclesiarchy. On those grounds, she would shed no tears if it burned – but her old Mission had been located on one of the dead moons of the main planet. Where Callisine would have been. Her stomach knotted at a sudden fear, that maybe it had been more than a dream, but she held her voice steady. "What by?"

"A Tau hunter cadre."

Tzarine relaxed. Whatever the thing had been, it was not Tau, nor was it like the xenos to use monsters like it. "Why should we care? It's a bold move, but we both know that they're unlikely to gain a foothold. They'll kill a few priests, the galaxy will be better off. The Sisters are capable, they'll weather the storm."

Morgana hesitated. "Whether we should care or not about the outcome is something that we should probably all talk about. But it's not just the Tau. The message stated that the xenos forces have launched a full invasion on the capital, but they've never gone near the moons – probably don't know what's up there. Yet all contact has been lost with the Mission and the outlying bases. There's something else at work."

Tzarine closed her eyes, and the clawed shadow flashed before her again. "Tell the captain to set a course for the Shondar system."

"It's already done. I knew how you'd feel. Sister… Katarina… I'm not sure what we'll be able to do. They'll brand us traitors and heretics, rightly so."

"It doesn't matter," said Tzarine softly. "I may no longer be their commander, and I may no longer share their beliefs. But they were my comrades in arms, and I won't abandon them." She closed her eyes, Callisine's tortured features running through her mind again, and impulsively she drew Morgana into a tight embrace, burying her face into the other woman's neck.

Morgana held her firmly, gently running a hand through Tzarine's shoulder-length hair. It was the closest they'd got since before Senaav, and the mutual understandings there. "Is this your way of saying that you're ready to stop fencing with me?" she asked, half-joking.

Tzarine almost pulled away, an evasion rising to her lips, but it died unsaid.

Morgana looked at her, at the haunted look in her eyes, and nodded. She sat on the bed, and Tzarine curled up next to her, resting her head in Morgana's lap.

"What did you dream?" she whispered.

Tzarine did not reply.


	2. Chapter 2

Adrastus Syndragar was no fool.

When Tzarine had first come on board the _Soul Venom_, she had tried to bully and intimidate him. It had had no success, and she had swiftly given up, realising a very basic fact: Syndragar had commanded the cruiser as a mercenary and pirate for twenty years, and thus posturing had little to no effect. She suspected that even Korgar had met with little give from the man, for all the Word Bearer's rash violence.

So she had changed tacks, approaching him as a cautious ally and mistrusted but valued lieutenant. She wasn't sure if it was working. Syndragar was a hard man to read, and on some level, she wasn't entirely sure she could back up her claim on the _Venom_ if the two of them came to serious disagreement.

It was in this spirit that she stalked onto the bridge. It was dimly lit, the glow of the control consoles visible as servitors and various officers went through the work of keeping the warship running.

Although there was a command chair in pride of place, Syndragar preferred to stand, looming over sets of raised hololithic displays. He half-turned as she approached, Morgana close behind. "My lady," he said neutrally.

"Captain." Tzarine peered at the display. It showed schematics for various warships; judging by the rounded shapes, Tau designs. "Studying the enemy?"

"That remains to be seen." Syndragar waved a partially augmetic hand, and the display faded. "What are you intentions when we arrive in the system?"

Tzarine eyed him suspiciously. "Our priority is to locate the Mission and ascertain its fate."

"That is not a plan," he pointed out. "It's an objective. And while according to your lieutenant's information the base is not the immediate centre of the fighting, the entire system is a warzone. The _Soul Venom_ is a known renegade in Imperial records, and the Tau will not be keen to have an unidentified human warship in the area."

He looked at her intensely. His eyes had at some point been replaced by glowing green augmetics, and the effect could be unsettling. "As a former part of the Imperium's enforcers, I'm sure you don't need me to remind you of their approach to dealing with traitors and renegades."

Tzarine could see what was coming, and her tone was frosty. "Get to the point."

"This is a well defended system. An Ecclesiarchical capital, no less. The Tau would welcome some additional firepower. They pay well and are highly capable strategists and tacticians. It would allow us to operate much more freely, and we would face little risk of being used as simple cannon fodder."

Tzarine paused. Sororitas-honed instincts screamed that it was a bad idea, that the only good xenos was a dead xenos. Unfortunately, Syndragar was right. Any loyal to the Emperor would attempt to kill them on sight.

If nothing else, this would let her vent some hatred on the Ecclesiarchy.

"I'll consider it," she conceded. "How long until we arrive?"

"Seven hours." Syndragar turned away, returning to studying schematics with another wave of his hand. It felt insultingly like a dismissal, and she stalked over to the command chair, sitting in it and beckoning Morgana over. The captain did not react to this blatant gesture, but she thought she saw his eyes narrow for a moment.

Morgana sighed quietly as she stationed herself at Tzarine's side. "We need to cut through these power games, Sister. They don't help anyone."

"Tell him that," Tzarine growled. "What do you think?"

"We've already worked with Chaos," the other pointed out. "I doubt the Tau will be anywhere near as bad as that. You can't just make the decision, though. Not after last time. You said you wouldn't."

Tzarine thought back to 'last time', the ugly scene when she had revealed her deal with Llthaanhir despite unequivocally warning her troops away from Chaos worship themselves. She'd lost trust then, and before when she had signed them up with Korgar in the first place, but in both cases she'd had no choice. This time she did.

Morgana was right. She might be the commanding officer, but she needed the agreement and acquiescence of her troops.

An unpleasant thought came to mind, and she grimaced. "Have you heard anything from Rhia?"

Since their arrival on the _Soul Venom_, Rhia had effectively vanished. The fencer's gloom and bitterness had been a looming cloud for some time, and Tzarine mourned for her. They had never been particularly close, but Rhia's fiery temperament and peerless skill with a blade had been a valuable asset. Now it felt like she had lost both. Rhia had fought with the rest of them during the Senaav campaign, first against the Imperials and then during their betrayal of the Word Bearers, but it had been clinical, detached. Where once she had cut through swathes of the foe, she had only killed a handful in a month of combat.

Morgana shook her head. "Apart from slinking out to find food, she never leaves her quarters. Never speaks to anyone."

"She'll want to be in on this," Tzarine said. "She was practically howling for my blood back on Senaav, I'm sure she'll want to be involved in discussing our future."

"Well, we both know Helga will support anything that lets her kill somebody. Most of us will still follow you. Nobody liked some of the decisions you made on Senaav, but you've kept your promises and kept us alive so far." Morgana locked eyes with her. "But Rhia won't countenance any further action against Imperial targets. If that does happen… if she's the only dissenter… what will you do?"

Tzarine shook her head. "I don't know."

* * *

The attack was swift, brutal and ruthless. Varn Karis dodged and weaved as best she could, blocking a few swings and attempting to counter, but she steadily fell back, bruised and winded.

Helga pressed her advantage, and then lunged to try and bear the ex-stormtrooper to the ground. Like liquid, her opponent slipped out of the way and rammed an elbow into Helga's side. She fell, but scythed a leg out, taking Karis down hard.

Both women remained on the floor for a moment, catching their breath. This was the tenth quickfire bout they'd had, and this seemed as good a breaking point as any. "Good recover," Karis said. "You still fell for it, though."

Helga grinned. "My combat instructor always did say I was ruthless. Of course, you're also far too damn sneaky."

They looked over to the rest of the training room. A dozen Sisters and a few of Karis' renegade Guard were busily sparring with each other. A couple had been watching Helga and Karis in action, but with the lull in the fighting had turned back to their own exercises.

"Your men are sloppy," said Helga after a time. "I knew the close quarters discipline of the Imperial Guard could be poor, but this is just depressing." She gestured to the panther-like form of Vulka, her second, demolishing two of the troopers almost casually.

Karis shrugged. "Guard combat discipline is often of the opinion that if it comes to blades and fists, you'll be in a squad or things have gone very wrong. Get them armed and in a good position and you'll see a different result."

"Doesn't help much when jump troops crash into the middle of your line and start killing. I saw that often enough on Senaav." Helga shook her head, and stood. "I guess we can't all be Sororitas."

Karis leapt to her feet with a playful gasp of outrage. "You arrogant…"

The two warriors blurred. The week they had been training together on the _Soul Venom_ had shown them to be a good match; Helga was faster and stronger, but Karis seemed to have a natural instinct for the flow of a fight that meant she was often one step ahead. This time it was the stormtrooper who got the upper hand with a stunning blow to the face that let her trip the Seraphim, before pinning her down. Helga growled, then signalled her submission. "Fine, we can't all be Sororitas or stormtroopers."

"That's better." Karis helped her opponent up with a chuckle, and then paused, eyes locked on a corner of the room. Helga followed her gaze, and stiffened.

The figure appeared human, except for having skin so pale that it was almost blue. The black bodysuit contrive to simultaneously cover every scrap of skin below the neck and yet hide absolutely nothing, and a shard of instinctive, animal desire ran through the Seraphim's mind. She ignored it, knowing it to be just an effect of the daemon's aura.

Llthaanhir continued to lounge against the wall as the pair approached. Closer to, other subtly wrong details became noticeable; the oval, cat-like eyes, the long snake-like tongue, the unnaturally sharp teeth.

"What do you want?" said Helga bluntly.

The daemon seemed to consider the two for a split second, her expression turning slightly weary. "Even daemons get bored," she remarked. "I have now spent a week being ignored or shooed away by all, occasionally at gunpoint. It's a little jarring and frustrating."

"Disappointed at the lack of worship and rampant hedonism?" Karis asked waspishly.

Llthaanhir gave the stormtrooper a look. There was no malice or apparent emotion of any kind in it, but Karis flinched, and fell silent. Helga glanced between them, and shrugged. "Not sure what you expected. You're only here at Tzarine's will, and not even she likes or trusts you. You're a tool and a weapon, nothing more."

Llthaanhir turned and left without a word. Helga relaxed, and glanced around the room. Men and women alike had stopped their training, unconsciously watching the warp-creature go. "That thing is dangerous."

Karis nodded as the soldiers shook off the influence and returned to the task at hand. "Why did Tzarine let it roam freely?"

"I'm not sure Tzarine knows."

"Probably not, but the daemon has yet to cause trouble. Is this a problem?" The new voice was quiet, but it held plenty of rebuke. Instinct made both Helga and Karis straighten to attention.

Morgana waved a hand. "At ease. But be careful what you say. The last thing we need is the chain of command breaking down. If you have concerns about your commander, you raise them with me or her. Not in public like this."

Karis saluted smartly, Helga a moment later. Helga respected few people, but Morgana had slid into the category of late since she had started to expand her command role, and whatever her reservations about Tzarine since they had gone renegade, she could see the sense in Morgana's words.

"What's up, Sister? In for some training?"

Morgana shook her head. "Training's over. Tzarine's called a briefing. We reach our destination in under seven hours, and we need to be combat ready."

The ripple of silence spread out as everyone processed this news.

"Who are we fighting?" asked a Battle Sister with heavy facial scarring from shrapnel.

"That's what the briefing will decide." Morgana left.

Looks were exchanged.

* * *

"Two hours ago, the choir intercepted a distress signal from the Shondar system." Tzarine took in the mood of the room as she paused. The name would mean nothing to many, and it was otherwise hard to judge. "Shondar is an important Ecclesiarchical system in the region. More importantly, it is where my old Mission is based. Normally I would be content to leave things to run their course, but this is more than just an invasion."

Morgana took her cue and activated the hololithic display at the centre of the briefing room. It showed a diagram of the Shondar system, and Tzarine gestured to it.

"Calsus is a minor industrial world. The message indicated that it's been largely ignored; little strategic or tactical value." She passed by an asteroid belt and pointed to a large terrestrial world. "This is Shondar Majoris. It's the capital and focus on the attack."

The hololith zoomed in, displaying the planet and its moons.

"The invasion is being carried out by the Tau Empire." She paused, noting the automatic, ingrained distaste that flashed across most faces. "The Tau invasion is not my concern, though. The Mission on the moon of Vensis Gamma has gone silent, despite the fact that by all accounts, the Tau never went near it. The Mission was highly secret, few knew of its location. As far as I'm concerned, Shondar Majoris can burn. But if someone has specifically targeted my old Mission, even if I don't have their faith any more, than I will not abandon them."

Dead silence. Dead, unreadable silence. She plunged on. "This will mean entering a warzone. Captain Syndragar has suggested that we ally ourselves with one of the forces. Unfortunately, we all know that any Imperials would shoot us on sight the moment they worked out who were were."

"You're suggesting we join the Tau," said Helga bluntly.

Tzarine paused for a moment. She could fence, she could mitigate, she could do all kinds of things… but in the end… "It's the proposal on the table, yes." She took in her soldiers. "It's time I stopped making decisions like that without any input from you. But that seems to be the most sensible course of action."

Mogana spoke up. "After Korgar and his Word Bearers, Tau will be an easy proposition. While we may all feel uneasy about working with aliens, Syndragar assures us that they pay well and play straight. Who here has any real love for the Imperium any more, after what they did to us?"

"What if the Tau were responsible for the deaths of your Sisters? What if we are instructed to kill them ourselves?" Every eye locked onto the speaker with instinctive hostility, but Llthaanhir was unfazed. "We will be left in an awkward situation if you start refusing orders due to some sense of misplaced loyalty. Those in that Mission will not be your friends any more."

"The Tau are not responsible for the Mission going silent," said Tzarine.

She sounded so certain that everyone stared at her curiously. She could feel Llthaanhir's daemonic gaze in particular boring into her. "Then what is?" the warp creature asked. "And how do you know?"

Tzarine did not reply for a time, and then shook her head. "Call it instinct. Regardless, decisions must be made. I am your commanding officer, and in the field I expect to be obeyed and treated as such. Right now, though, I will not force this band along a path that you do not want. If you object to this course of action, if you think allying with the Tau will be a mistake, speak now."

At the far end of the crowd, a figure looked for a moment at Tzarine, and then left, the hatch sealing with a thud. Tzarine closed her eyes for a moment. "Dismissed. Squad commanders… Llthaanhir, with me."

The ordinary Sisters quietly left. A moment later, the six indicated were left. Zekka, her Amazonian bodyguard; Morgana, her second-in-command and leader of one of the main units; Ysabella, Morgana's stoic counterpart; Helga, the psychotic Seraphim who had made killing Space Marines look easy on Senaav; Karis, the former Inquisitorial Stormtrooper who had defected to their side rather than be shot down; and the daemon.

They looked at her expectantly, and Tzarine gathered her thoughts. "This is, for the moment confidential. I expect you all to use your judgement if and when the situation arises to spread this." She hesitated. "I knew the Mission was in trouble before I heard about the distress signal. I thought it was a dream, but now I'm not so sure."

Llthaanhir pricked up her ears.

"I saw one of my old Sisters being hunted down by a… thing. It tortured her to death, mercilessly. I'm not sure what it was, but it was powerful, fast and stealthy. I don't make a habit of having prophetic dreams, but I don't believe in coincidence, either. If I really was having a vision, and it gives us any clue as to what we're dealing with… you should know about it."

Zekka nodded seriously. Tzarine remembered the woman remarking that she came from a feral world, where dreams and visions were an accepted part of everyday life. "Tyranid?" she asked.

Tzarine shook her head. "Intelligent. It spoke, seemed to have some knowledge of the Emperor."

"Chaos?" Helga offered. She looked dubious, but she could apparently see the sense in Tzarine's thought process.

"I don't think so. Too coherent and focused. Every worshipper or being of Chaos I've ever interacted with has had a disconnected element to them. This creature was crystal clear and terrifying. Absolute hatred, nothing but raw, directed malice without any of the bleed-off you'd expect. 'I have no mercy, only malice.' That's what he said when she was pleading…"

"All that hatred… directed at Sororitas?" asked Morgana quietly. She could remember how Tzarine had looked after that dream, and whatever the ramifications if her commander was starting to have visions… no ordinary dream could leave someone that shaken.

Tzarine nodded.

"Fascinating," said Llthaanhir. There was an oddly subdued note to the daemon's voice. "If this was more than a dream, then it should not be taken lightly. Chaos or not, anything with that much directed hatred is a great threat. Did you get a clear sight of the being?"

"Claws. I think they might have been weapons rather than natural, but it peeled the girl's power armour apart with ease. Not huge, but bigger than the average human." She shook her head. "Whether or not it was a dream, I felt that you all should be warned. This 'Malice' took apart an entire squad with ease. If you encounter him, be cautious. No unnecessary risks. I don't want to find your skinned bodies."

There was silence for a time, then the Sisters left to attend to their pre-campaign rituals and preparations. Tzarine remained behind for a moment longer, closing her eyes.

Stronger even than the image of Malice in her skull was that of the cold venom in Rhia's eyes before she had left.


	3. Chapter 3

Tzarine carefully slid a foot into the armoured boot, and felt the seals tighten.

They would arrive within the hour, and she could feel the tension running through her body. How could she approach the Tau? How could she frame a deal that the xenos would accept, while still providing some freedom to investigate? Not to mention one that would let her keep some self-respect.

Thirty Sisters and half a dozen rogue Guard. Not that she trusted Karis or her team. Karis' defection had been too sudden, too neat, and her troops had initially been brainwashed zealots of the Word Bearers – or so it seemed, anyway. Whether that made Karis a chaos disciple, or an Inquisitorial mole, she didn't know… and she wasn't sure which was worse.

Even ignoring the trust issues, it wasn't much of a force. Not least as there were a lot of injuries that would reduce the effectiveness of the unit. And speaking of trust… there was Rhia. Someone she had once trusted her life to, and now… was a liability.

The _Soul Venom_ had a decent amount of supplies, but they wouldn't last forever. Short of peaceful retirement – the thought made her snort – they would need to find some way to replenish them ammunition, fuel, equipment…

So here it was. Mercenary work. What could she offer that would encourage the Tau that she was a good investment?

The answer made her stomach clench.

Slowly, she picked up the red gemstone necklace, and slipped it over her head.

_Come._

The door slid open as she was sealing her breastplate, the faint hum of the reactor warming up from dormancy vibrating in her bones. She did not turn, sliding a hand into her gauntlet. She knew who it was.

"You called?" the demon purred.

"How powerful are you?" Tzarine asked bluntly.

Llthaanhir's voice became coy. "You fought me in the warp."

"That was a test of fortitude," Tzarine snapped. This was not the time for games. "I'm not stupid. I know you didn't throw everything you had at me. Give me a straight answer. How powerful are you?"

The servant of Slaanesh stalked into view, a toothy grin on her features. "At the moment, not very," she admitted. "Only the gemstone binds me to this reality. I can kill any human, but if you intend to send me against armies… I would advise against it. For now."

"For now?" Tzarine challenged, her heart thudding. Anything the daemon said could be a lie, but… if Llthaanhir at her prime was that dangerous…

"Every life I take, every soul I consume, every sensation I experience or inflict will strengthen me for a time. Mass death or suffering, or the souls of psykers will be much more effective and long lasting."

"And if you get your psyker souls?"

"Then a dozen Space Marines would be so much bloody meat in as much time as it takes to say it. The brighter I burn, though, the quicker I fade."

Tzarine was silent, digesting this. Then she abruptly turned away from the cat-like eyes, testing the movement of the armour before picking out her weapons. The reactor felt sluggish, but it was sufficiently powered for basic tasks. She took her time about it, checking the bolt pistol carefully. Feeling the daemon's gaze upon her. Waiting for the next little slip, the next use of the thing's power.

"What would happen if I smashed the heart?" she asked suddenly.

Llthaanhir shrugged. "I would fade and return to the warp, unbound and free of your will."

"Then you claim to be subject to my will now."

A silent nod.

Tzarine locked gazes with the warp-creature. "Then tell me your name."

"Llthaanhir." Her eyes gleamed. "Or do you mean my true name? Not even the gem will make me reveal that to you if I do not wish it."

"I'm not a fool, daemon. I saw what your armies did to Senaav, and now you admit yourself to be so dangerous that you could probably take out the ship yourself. You _let_ me win inside the Gate. You allowed yourself to be bound to me, if bound you are. Why?"

"So sudden, so direct!" Llthaanhir giggled, making Tzarine's skin crawl. "You expect me to reveal all on the second date without even a kiss?"

The Sororitas' fist rammed into the daemon's solar plexus, and she fell hard. "You repel me," Tzarine snarled.

"Liar." Llthaanhir's voice had become low, sultry. "You want what I represent. You crave it. The gods of Chaos are capricious, vengeful, but their rewards are great. And then there's what else I represent, what you desire… from a certain lieutenant…"

Tzarine snatched the necklace, wrapping fingers around the gemstone as it cleared her gorget and squeezed it hard. Llthaanhir mewled, falling from her half-sat position as she writhed and spasmed in pain.

The Sororitas kept the pressure for a whole minute before releasing. "Remember your place," she said coldly. "Whether your servitude to me is real or an illusion, I will not tolerate that kind of insolence. Get up."

The daemon slowly rose, still twitching. "Yes, mistress," she said quietly.

"You will accompany me to meet the Tau commander, and you will assist us in the war effort as I see fit. If you cross the line again, I'll ensure you regret it. Get out of my sight."

The daemon fled meekly, and Tzarine relaxed, satisfied.

It was only as she was preparing to leave that she realised that she had been goaded into using the daemon after all.

* * *

The _Soul Venom_ lurched as it made its crackling re-entry into the material world. Tzarine tried to surreptitiously clutch onto the display table and close her eyes as the translation occurred. No matter how many journeys, how many weeks and months she spent in the warp… the translations always made her queasy.

The sharp intake of breath from Syndragar brought her attention back to the moment, expecting an Imperial squadron to be bearing down on them.

She took in the sensor display, and whistled. "I guess we won't be negotiating after all."

The space around Shondar Majoris was a graveyard. She counted the flickering icons, came to a total of twenty drifting hulks, both Tau and Imperial, amidst a vast field of wreckage.

"The initial transmission indicated seventeen heavy Tau warships," Syndragar remarked, echoing her thoughts. "Based on the amount of debris, it looks like the entire force was all but destroyed. They took the whole Navy reinforcement fleet with them, though. No battleworthy ships in the area."

"Convenient," Morgana said dryly. "We get free reign. Until the next relief force arrives."

"Is there _anything_ still working out there?" asked Tzarine, glancing towards the viewports, and the drifting silhouettes.

"A single Tau warship. There." Syndragar pointed thoughtfully. "Still has power and life support in some sections. Engines are gone, warp drive is a dead loss, and if its guns are still working, I'll be surprised." He looked at Tzarine, waiting for her response.

"We should board it," she said. "There'll be supplies we can salvage, and there's a chance we can get some ground information."

"I agree. I can supervise salvage operations in the area afterwards as well. You'd be surprised what people will pay for chunks of warship."

Tzarine breathed an internal sigh of relief. With the man so hard to read, she hadn't been sure of his intent.

"That's decided, then," she said aloud. "Zekka, Ysabella, you're with me. Morgana and Helga will stay in reserve."

She hesitated, glanced between her assembled commanders. There was no putting it off, though. "We'll be a woman down. Rhia's being relieved of duty until further notice."

Looks were exchanged. "What are you going to do with her?" asked Zekka finally. "You can't just lock her up on the _Venom_ indefinitely."

"Let her go." Karis shrugged as eyes locked onto her. "She wants no further part in this. She can't give away any vital information. Boot her off the ship when we leave and let her find her own way."

Tzarine's eyes narrowed. It was a reasonable suggestion, and from anyone else, she'd have agreed immediately. But coming from the suspected traitor… "I'll consider it," she said aloud. "For now, we've got other priorities. Captain, I want you to liaise with Morgana to see if there are any signals or traces of the Mission. Dismissed."

Zekka, Ysabella and Helga left immediately, Morgana drifting off with Syndragar. Tzarine turned to leave herself, and almost ran into Karis.

"You don't trust me an inch, do you?" the stormtrooper remarked.

Tzarine stopped, unsure of how best to respond.

"I know a lot more about Tau and their workings than you do. I saved your ass on Senaav, and I sold out my principles and self-respect on your say-so to deal with that Chaos scum. You were going to leave me to burn with the rest of the planet, and you barely give me the time of day here. What do I have to do here?"

Tzarine's lip curled. "Not here," she said curtly, stalking off the bridge.

They walked in silence until they reached a deserted corridor, and the Sororitas spun. "You've got a lot of nerve. What in the name of Holy Terra makes you think you can storm up to me and _demand_ my trust? You've done nothing to earn it. Every time you've backed me up or done something to benefit us, you've been saving your own damn skin. Maybe I did intend to leave you behind. It would've made my life simpler, and the Warp knows it's complicated enough."

"_I_ make it complicated?" Karis snapped back. "What about that abomination you keep around? Llthaanhir is a threat, and a serious one. You don't even keep it contained, the thing goes where it pleases and it takes a gun to persuade it to leave."

"At least I know what to expect from a daemon," Tzarine shot back coldly. "I don't know you, Karis. I don't know what you're capable of. What I do know is that you're no fool, and that you're a self-serving bitch. Go ahead. Push me harder. See what happens."

Karis shrunk back a little. "I… I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to go out of line." She bowed her head. "But… with respect, I can't prove myself if you don't give me a chance."

Tzarine said nothing. Her hackles were still raised, and she didn't like the sudden switch in attitude. The stormtrooper had a point, though. "You said that you're familiar with Tau?" she said finally.

"Yes ma'am." Karis paused a moment. "I was under Inquisitor Gharr's command for some time, but one of my first assignments was at a Xenos outpost in the Damocles Gulf. I grew quite familiar with Tau procedure; even learned enough of their language to be reasonably fluent."

Tzarine looked away, and finally nodded. "Fine. Get your team ready. You're with us. You wanted a chance, I'm giving you one. Go."

Karis saluted smartly, and left swiftly. Tzarine paused, watching her go for a moment.

Relying on Karis and Llthaanhir, while dealing with likely hostile xenos on a broken and burning wreck.

This felt like a recipe for disaster, she thought wryly.


	4. Chapter 4

The deck creaked ominously, and Tzarine checked that her armour was vacuum-sealed for the fifth time.

She'd done vacuum ops before, most memorably crawling through the wreck of a renegade destroyer to retrieve a stolen relic. Facing off against crazed, slowly suffocating cultists had been uniquely haunting, and she'd dreamed about it for some time after. Even now, years later and in entirely different surroundings, her mind conjured the image of one man clawing desperately at her helmet, his skin blue from cold and oxygen deprivation. He'd died before she could lay blade to him, and the expression of horror in his eyes, inches from her own, was quite memorable.

It had seriously convinced her that dying from vacuum exposure was the last thing she wanted. This area of the Tau cruiser was sealed… but if that changed, she wanted to be prepared. At least the zero-g environment didn't bother her stomach.

"Clear," crackled Zekka's voice from ahead.

At least she had power armour. She glanced at Karis, who had Inquisition-issued sealed carapace armour, which was almost as good… but her team of ex-Guard were stuck with vacuum suits over flak armour, and didn't look thrilled to be here. She suddenly wondered why Karis had brought them. It seemed distinctly fishy.

And then there was Llthaanhir… who hadn't bothered to change from the same near-human from she'd taken to during the voyage. Exposed to the cold and potential airlessness and not giving a damn. Not to mention sticking to the floor without magnetic boots.

"Karis," she called. "Which way from here?"

The stormtrooper consulted her dataslate, and gestured. "Central data storage is that way. Direct route to the bridge and command facilities is that way. That area seems mostly intact, probably where any survivors are holed up. I can take my team to data storage, extract what I can and then catch up with you. You'll be better at handling any fighting, anyway."

"Do it." She glanced at the rest of her team as Karis vanished off, and checked her weapons one last time. "We're here for information. Prisoners would be nice if possible. Don't take any stupid risks, though. Spread out, and watch yourselves. I doubt the xenos will be in any condition to fight, but all it takes is one ambusher. Pair up."

No further instructions were required, and Tzarine felt a small swell of pride. Undoubtedly there were friendships and preferences at work as her troops split up, but there was a tactical sense to every match. A Guard unit or a more rigid Sororitas one might proscribe teams, but here… no. Friends worked better together.

That raised the question of who would team up with her. A shadow appeared at her side, and she almost snarled, expecting it to be Llthaanhir, but the rebuke died on her lips, replaced by a guilty feeling.

Sister Akadia hefted her flamer, and nodded. "Sister," she said quietly.

There was no reason to feel guilty, Tzarine told herself. She'd never been close to Akadia before the mess on Senaav. The only connection was that she was another of the outcasts from the Shondar Mission.

"Akadia," she said aloud. It didn't change the fact that she hadn't said or thought that name in weeks.

She turned away, glanced around. Satisfied herself that the unit was deploying appropriately. Caught sight of Llthaanhir, skulking alone in the shadows, decided to ignore her. Then she was left with just her current awkwardness.

"How have you been?" she said finally. "You got through Senaav unscathed."

Akadia shrugged, the movement exaggerated by the heavy plating. "I was lucky. Avoided the worst of the fighting."

Tzarine gritted her teeth, then cast the matter aside as she started moving through the dark corridors, a solid 'thunk' sounding with each footstep. Akadia was one of her soldiers. If there was a problem, she'd have heard about it.

Chatter began flitting across the channels, warnings of blind spots, possible ambush locations. Tzarine filed it to the back of her mind, sliding into her combat mindset and instincts. Her bolt pistol was half-raised, ready to snap onto any miscellaneous movement, her whole body a well-oiled killing machine.

It was moments like this that she could almost understand Helga's killing urges. The raw power of feeling this synchronised was almost narcotic. Of course, once the bolts started flying, things became considerably more messy, unpredictable and flawed, and it was that switch that kept her focused. No matter how capable she felt, she had to stay in control and on top of the game. The alternative was to screw up and die.

Or perhaps worse, to discover that she didn't need to – at the cost of those around her, and probably chunks of her own sanity. She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering a flash of her time in the Warp, the vision of Khornate rage she had been 'gifted'.

She shook herself out of her thoughts, a large pressure door blocking their way. Akadia slipped forwards without prompting, checking the controls. A moment later, she tapped in a sequence, and the metal slid open reluctantly, revealing what seemed to be an armoury. Dead bodies floated through it, which she ignored at first – until she realised that not all were in the black-trimmed grey carapacing of the Tau soldiers.

Imperial carapace armour. She gripped one of the drifting bodies with a free hand, inspected the insignia. Fleet assault trooper. She wasn't familiar with the unit, but she assumed he had come from one of the drifting hulks now scattered across the area. The heavy shotgun was definitely standard naval issue – able to punch holes in most foes, but not likely to cause a hull breach. Cause of death… well, she thought wryly, not many could survive with that much of their chest blasted away.

She lightly pushed the corpse out of her path, floating 'bubbles' of blood drifting away as she did so. "The ship was boarded, Sisters," she remarked. "I've found a fireteam of naval troopers. Be prepared for possible Imperial contacts."

"And if we run into them?" Zekka queried. "They'll probably assume we're just reinforcements."

"Don't initiate hostilities. Don't hold back if they start it." Tzarine began advancing again, aware of Akadia's eyes on her.

She switched to a private channel. "Is there a problem?" she growled, tiring of the uncomfortable feeling at the back of her mind.

"Is there?" Akadia replied levelly. "You tell me, Sister."

Another blast door lay ahead, slightly ajar. Tzarine grasped hold of it, and gave a silent count before pulling it open. Akadia swept the corridor beyond, and they moved on.

"This isn't the best time for guessing games."

"I'm tired of waiting."

This made Tzarine pause, and she shot a look at the woman. "Waiting?" she repeated.

"Sisters," came Ysabella's voice. "I've located the remains of the Imperial boarding party. Half a dozen men, holed up in a control room of some kind. They're very grateful for our assistance."

Tzarine paused, flipping back to her squad channel. "Patch me through."

Pause. A light flashed in her HUD obediently to inform her that it was done. "My name is Palatine Katarina of the Adepta Sororitas. Identify yourself, soldier."

The words tasted unpleasant in her mouth, as though she were chewing something stale. It also felt odd using her first name – but 'Tzarine' might be a wanted name, and forename was the usual form of address…

"Sergeant Lorac, ma'am. My squad served on the _Hakkor Magnus_. Tried to take down this xenos crate when the _Magnus_ began breaking up, but we didn't have the troops." He sounded tired, she thought. Tired, but hopeful.

"Sitrep." She gestured for Akadia to move forward and cover the door, wanting to avoid splitting her attention.

"The frakking Tau fought like daemons, ma'am. Most of us were killed, and then the ship took a torpedo salvo. There didn't seem to be any safe way to advance, so we just hunkered down and hoped for rescue. Thank the Emperor you showed up –"

"You ceased your assault in dereliction of your duty?" she demanded. She hated herself for it. It was the kind of comment that she'd despised hearing from superiors, but here, now… she was playing a part.

Lorac stopped. "I… I thought that our duty was to survive to fight in His name again. It's a miracle this hulk hasn't blown itself apart. We had no objectives."

"Are there still xenos on board and breathing?" She maintained her harsh tone.

"In a different section." He sounded relieved. "My men aren't equipped for a full-scale vacuum assault, which is what we'd need to be sure of getting in weapons range."

_You should kill them._

Tzarine flinched. Ignored the voice echoing in her head from the gem. "What do you know of the enemy capabilities?"

"We were told that this was the flagship. I think that the surviving section _might_ be the bridge, so any remaining Tau will be heavily armed. Not many of them, though, they threw a lot at us, and most of them died when the fleet bracketed this abominable creation."

"That is what our scans indicated. Any other Imperial forces still active?"

"None that we've been able to contact." He still sounded hopeful. He'd probably resigned himself to dying here, she realised. A rescue party of Sororitas would have been beyond his wildest dreams.

_They're a threat to you. Kill them. What alternative do you have? They're tired and desperate, but soon they'll realise that your armour has been desecrated. No pretty aquilas, no dedications of faith… what then?_

"What should we do, commander?" asked Zekka. A blinking light indicated that it was a private channel.

Tzarine gritted her teeth. Llthaanhir's voice was like claws running down her spine. _Abandon them? That is merely a slower death. Take them prisoner? For what purpose? Even if they joined your cause, could you trust them? End their lives. Give the order._

There was nothing worse than a daemon with a point, she reflected.

For a moment, she toyed with the idea of bringing them along for the assault. A few extra bodies… but what was the point? They were unlikely to be capable of much combat, and they were an unknown quantity. And if one survived… her dilemma would remain.

She closed her eyes, closed the channel with Lorac. "Execute them."

Dimly over the vox, she heard screams, several shotgun blasts, and then silence. "Done," said Zekka simply.

Tzarine said nothing for a time, eyes closed. Then she opened them again, and advanced, kicking the next door open. "Keep moving," she growled over the vox. Confirmation lights flicked on briefly.

It wasn't like it was the first time she'd ordered the deaths of Imperials. Not even the first time she'd done it to 'allies'. For a moment, her mind vividly replayed the recoil the bolt pistol, the spray of blood, the shocked expressions of the guardsmen as she cast her fate back on Senaav…

"Second thoughts?"

She looked at Akadia sharply. The Dominion shrugged.

Tzarine continued to glower, and switched to a private link. "Do you really think this is the best time to be pull this on me? A dying hulk with a swarm of crazed and desperate xenos ahead of us? Too much to expect for you to live up to your training and obey orders in a combat zone?"

"I'm sick of waiting for you to stop brooding in your corner, playing with that daemon and obsessing over old choices. I need a commander. _We_ need a commander. You're the top of the chain now. That doesn't just mean you give us orders on the field or work out where we go."

Tzarine twitched. "Watch your tone."

"Or what?" Akadia shot back belligerently. "I finally have your attention, don't I? Do you care so little about your Sisters that they need to insult you to be able to talk to you?"

There was a solid crash of ceramite gauntlet hitting ceramite helmet, and Akadia stumbled back. "Don't you _dare_ say that!" Tzarine growled. "I shot down good men and women, I sold out my principles to a madman, and I bargained with a daemon, all because I didn't want to see you burned down as cannon fodder. You deserve more than that."

Akadia seemed to smile. "So you are alive in there."

There was a long silence.

"This can wait," Akadia said finally.

Tzarine nodded. What she was about to say would remain a mystery, however, as the ship suddenly shook, violently.


End file.
